Alamagoozlum Cocktail: A History
John Pierpont Morgan epitomized the cigar-chomping, big-city boss with a penchant for high-class imbibing. A member of the elite Zodiac Club, Morgan orchestrated extravagant 10-course tasting menus paired with copious bottles of Château Latour, Clos de Vougeot, Moët, and Cognac. His private cellars boasted the finest vintages from Rhône, Burgundy, and Bordeaux. Even aboard his custom steam-powered yacht, the Corsair, Morgan's indulgence knew no bounds—rare wine, brandy, and Scotch, all bearing his personal label, flowed freely. As a 1949 Harper’s feature aptly noted, "Whatever Morgan did, he did in a big way."
Amid Morgan's ascent coinciding with the dawn of the American cocktail era, numerous drinks found association with his legacy, including the famed Manhattan, toasted at the Waldorf Astoria during New York Stock Exchange closures. But tucked in obscurity lies another concoction linked to Morgan: the Alamagoozlum.
This kitchen-sink recipe, surfacing in the late 1930s, melds Jamaican rum, genever, Chartreuse, Curaçao, gomme syrup, half an egg white, water, and Angostura bitters into a potent elixir. Weighing in at a hearty seven-and-a-half ounces, this garnet-colored libation packs a punch, intended to be shared among three to five glasses—an embodiment of festive revelry with a formidable kick.
Unraveling the Alamagoozlum's origins proves as enigmatic as its name and composition. Charles H. Baker's "The Gentleman’s Companion: Around the World with Jigger, Beaker and Flask," published in 1939, is often credited with introducing the Alamagoozlum, albeit with no exotic pedigree but touted for its tasteful allure.
While its genesis remains a mystery, peppered with mentions in early 20th-century columns and publications, the Alamagoozlum stands as a testament to the enduring allure of vintage libations and the tantalizing enigma of their origins.
It's not exactly shocking to find that the backstory of a cocktail might be stretched to add allure to a fresh recipe. Yet, there's a certain allure to these fanciful tales that keeps them alive. Even writers who seemed wary of Baker’s narratives couldn't resist the temptation of a captivating story.
As David A. Embury quips in his 1948 masterpiece "The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks," "This cocktail is supposed to have been a specialty of the elder Morgan," a notion that amusingly implies Morgan's knack for mixology paralleled his prowess in banking.